


Gestation

by prairiecrow



Series: Ovum [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mpreg, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-28 20:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garak has a nightmare, and is comforted. A response to the DS9 Comment Ficathon prompt: "The thing about Cardassian biology is that like lizards, they have retractable penises. And when a Cardassian's penis retracts, he lays eggs from that place... Garak lays Bashir's eggbabies."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gestation

**Author's Note:**

> (1) Set post-"The Wire" (2) Concurrent with the events of the story "Ovum". (3) Spoilers for "Ovum".

As a rule Julian was a deep sleeper, no matter what stressors might be present in his waking life and even when he had someone else sharing his bed. Consequently it took a few seconds for the sound to penetrate and to rouse him: a low weird keening whine, like a tightly throttled scream. He only snapped almost-fully-awake when Garak, lying back to back with him, began to twitch and shiver.

"Wha'?" Julian rolled over and pushed himself into a sitting position, blinking to clear his eyes and his head: he'd been in the middle of a dream, something about trying to pick fruit in a lush grove where the trees kept lifting their branches out of his reach. Reality was significantly more prosaic. His bedroom was dark and still, and he was wearing his usual blue pajamas under the sheet that covered him; Garak's thick-cut nightclothes were a maroon Alosian thermal wool, tailored high at the neck to keep his ridges warm in the station's chill. He was feeling the cold more these days, and was currently huddled under the blanket Julian had replicated for him when he'd moved into Julian's quarters ten days ago, clutching it close to his egg-swollen belly as he struggled with whatever… well, Julian could only assume it was a nightmare, he really had no data on Cardassian sleep patterns. But at least, due to recent experience, he had some idea how to proceed.

"Garak." He spoke in a low voice pitched higher than day-to-day speech, and although he leaned over the Cardassian he was careful not to touch him: the first time Garak had started whining in distress in his sleep he'd shifted close and put a comforting arm around him, only to end up flat on his back on the floor beside the bed when Garak had twisted and punched and kicked with reflexive speed. The bruises on his thighs and chest had been a remarkable color the next morning, and although Garak had been apologetic Julian had also gotten the distinct impression that he really shouldn't be too surprised — and should consider himself fortunate that Garak hadn't struck to kill. So: no physical contact, not at this stage. "Garak, wake up."

"Mmph!" A tiny whimper so full of fear that Julian's heart melted, followed by a muted hiss and another whole-body shudder and blurry urgent words: "The walls!… the walls!… _erat'eka h'tora s'vartal…_ "

Julian took in every word, even the ones in a Cardassian dialect that the universal translator wasn't able to process, and filed them away for future consideration. Garak refused, or pretended to refuse, to believe that he talked in his sleep, insisting that Julian must be mistaken. Which probably meant that they revealed far more than the spy was comfortable with — and that they likely had something to do with thoughts or memories brought to the surface by the eggs gestating in Garak's body. Certainly Garak had never woken Julian like this prior to the kindling, even though he'd spent the night here several times before. Julian suppressed a frustrated sigh: he felt closer to Garak than ever, might well be about to have a child with him, but that didn't mean the mysteries surrounding this fascinating and dangerous man had been elucidated.

" _Garak_." Louder, and considerably firmer. "It's all right, you're safe — you're here with me, on Deep Space Nine. We're in my quarters, and you know I'd never let anything hurt you."

Another shiver, his voice less sleep-dulled this time although his eyes were still tightly closed and he was scowling: "… wouldn't…?"

"I'd die before I'd let you come to harm. You know that." He risked the lightest touch on the blanket covering Garak's upper arm, and when that wasn't rebuffed he slid his hand under the bedclothes to rub the tense bicep soothingly. "Come on, darling — come back to me. Let me hold you?"

A pause. A grumble, deep and resentful, but there was a note of assent to it as well. Julian lay down again against Garak's back, putting his arm around him under the blanket and snuggling close. With a little coaxing he insinuated his hand between Garak's blanket-clutching fists and his lower abdomen, to warmly cradle the undercurve of his belly — larger now than it had been ten days ago, but still small enough to be barely more noticeable inside the thick tunics he habitually wore. The Cardassian had been losing some subcutaneous fat weight as the eggs grew, and the overall effect almost balanced out. 

"There," Julian crooned, and kissed the fall of his inky hair. "You see? Everything's fine."

"Oh, Doctor." Half-awake now, a trace of bitterness penetrating the blur of sleep. He let go of his death-grip on the covers to cover Julian's hand with his. "Nothing is 'fine', as you well know…"

At once Julian roused from returning drowsiness to full alert. "Is something wrong? Are you in pain?"

Garak sighed, his whole body relaxing. "No. Quite comf'rtable. But v'ry tired…."

"I should —" He started to withdraw his hand preparatory to rising and getting the tricorder from the bedside table.

Garak interlaced his fingers with Julian's, holding him in place with a typically Cardassian gesture of intimacy. "No need for that. Go back to sleep."

"But —"

"Julian." His voice was tender now in its sleepiness. "Love. Don't make me pin you down."

Julian knew he was being manipulated. But as long as Garak was free of whatever terrors troubled his sleep, he really didn't care — and considering that Garak sometimes refused physical comfort after a nightmare, and that physical comfort made him sleep more soundly, it was really best for Julian to stay exactly where he was. He nuzzled his nose into Garak's hair, silky and faintly perfumed, and thought about the new life being nurtured in his lover's body mere centimetres under his embracing hand, and was comforted in his turn.

When sleep came again it was deep and dark and serene, and devoid of any dreams but those of a shared future.

THE END


End file.
